


Shelf Life

by Tsuukai



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Communication Failure, F/M, Insecurity, Lost Love, M/M, New Beginnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The length of time Taiga had left felt small, but he knew that more than anybody else could—chances are that he would become useless, alone and broken, and he would have nothing to show for it as he was thrown away. It seemed worthless, even to him, this short shelf life of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unfit for Consumption

**Author's Note:**

> Um…by now, you’d guess that Kagami is my favourite character to torment (honest, do believe that I really love all KuroBasu characters, even the annoying ones, the scary ones, and the useless ones). It’s just that…Kagami is easier to pick on. For me.
> 
> Oh, and sorry for all the original characters ;__;

Taiga knew he had a shelf life with Daiki; being on the brink of absolute zone and defeating him for the third time in their short tenure being acquaintances and then almost lovers, he was not surprised when the male told him that he wanted to change 'flavours' after a few months of a spectacular relationship (or so he thought).

"What do you mean, change flavours?" He had asked anyways, significantly enraged at the phrasing, despite knowing better, despite knowing how bad their arguments really got. Knowing he would probably not like the answer the other had for him.

He was right; he did not.

 

***

 

Ryouta was charming. As he aged and mellowed down considerably (thanks to that feisty ex-captain/sempai of his), the blond was passionate in and out of bed, something Taiga could relate to after high school. He liked having someone who regressed childishly to compliment him on mundane activities, suavely flirt when he was feeling insecure, and even fought on par with him without needing to pull back his verbal punches. There were days when he thought the other only survived the harshness of Japanese education through flaunting his beautiful and handsome face to naïve woman, shedding tears of heartache (in not passing the grade) to smart female sempai, and winning the hearts of men through sheer willpower and force—and probably stealing their hard effort with a smile. Taiga did not have to worry about that though; that was just Ryouta’s character, and it was amusing to watch him cry over unfinished assignments late at night just to see him days later with juvenile tongue-sticking, informing him of his passing grade.

 Nevertheless, being as comfortable as he was with Ryouta—far from the dynamic relationship he had shared with Daiki—he was not blind to the emotional mess the other was in: first it was Daiki, then Kuroko, and finally that sempai, Kasamatsu. The only thing Taiga knew they all had in common with him was basketball (and maybe being stubborn), and that too, seemed to be slipping from his fingers. It was only some more time, as they reached the end of their University days, that Taiga was getting more and more restless about his future as a professional basketball player especially when his knees were starting to tire out before a game season cooled down.

It came to reason that when Ryouta finally manned up to say "I'm tired, let's end this," that Taiga froze for a millisecond — of all the things the other could have said, he did not think he would tire of him. Eventually, there was a possibility of breaking up and separating, but... Taiga glanced at the worn out figure draping an arm across his face, head supported by the ottoman he had slacked against. "...As you wish."

In his hands, he crushed the letter he was going to show his now ex-lover.

 

***

 

He had countless hook-ups then, all one different from the other, but all ending in the same note. As the years added on, it seemed that not only his heart was growing weary but his body as well. Taiga wonders if fighting for a chance to change his partner's mind would have resulted in a different ending, feeling, but for the life of him, could not see the silver lining. It occurred to him that what he assumed was his dating shelf life with Daiki was actually just his shelf life in general; Taiga apparently wore down his partners so much that they got bored, tired, and just wanted out, so they threw him away. Alone and left to his own devices, Taiga lived life like a broken man, simultaneously wearing his body out that the sport he loved to death, was going to be the reason he could see himself jumping off a building if he could not play it ever.

"I want out," he thought aloud to himself. "I want out, too."

A young woman lugging the pulley-basket of the grocery store near him glanced at him, eyebrows drawn deep into a furrow at his words. She glanced around them, then over her shoulder up at him; he stared back, considering. "Um," she decided to speak her thoughts, bringing her basket closer to her legs as she turned to face him. She reached over and pointed to a direction diagonal to where they stood and said, "The exit is somewhere in the front there. You'll see it as soon as you turn left from this isle."

Taiga looked at her for a moment, brown eyes moist, the look of sincerity and a little bit of fear (of speaking to him, most probably), that the bubbling sensation in his chest rose unbidden and he laughed out loud.

The woman first looked frightened at his reaction, but it slowly morphed from confusion to irritation and then exasperation. "I don't see what you find funny."

Taiga laughed some more, bending slightly at the waist, waving his hands in a placating motion to stop her from moving away in anger—"I wasn't laughing at you in the least." She did not look convinced. "I was laughing at myself."

When the woman did react this time, it was to release the death grip on her basket handle and place her hands on her hips, an unconscious pout forming as she spoke. "No one with a large helping of common sense would believe an overly familiar guy like you." She paused, watching him. Taiga unabashedly stared back before he could remember his manners and do anything about it, understanding too late that he had spoken without any honorifics and humbleness*. "But..." She sighed, "You do look the type to have whole conversations in your mind and end it aloud. And be a ruffian.”

Taiga raised an eyebrow, ignoring what she said about him being a probable gangster; he could see how she concluded that from his words. "There's a type?"

"Why shouldn't there be?!" She looked like she took personal offense to that and he told her as much. She huffed, cheeks turning hot. "I don't even know you and you're already trying to patronize me."

And Taiga laughed, not realizing the tension in his shoulders dissipating. So there were types, he decided, of people who had whole conversations with themselves, people who have dating shelf lives, and people who made others feel good about themselves without really trying. Staring into those honest, sincere browns supported with pinked cheeks, Taiga thought, aloud again, "I really need to find a way to increase this time period."

The woman, now getting comfortable way too soon in the presence of a stranger she deemed a potential criminal, cocked an eyebrow and jutted out a hip. “You do know you sound totally insane, right? Or are you having a conversation with yourself again?”

Taiga grinned and in response the woman stepped back immediately. He figured it was not a pleasant smile he was sporting. “For a Japanese woman, you’re really forward and nosy.”

She frowned. “You speak like you aren’t a Japanese man.” She tilted her head to the side. “Or Japanese at all. What’s with that speech pattern?” He blushed, raising a hand unconsciously to rub at his nape. He watched as her lips twitched a couple of times before she coughed into a fist. “Right, anyways, you should check on that, you know; a psychiatrist or behaviourist or something. Get that bad habit of seeking out escape routes in check.” And saying so, she made to retreat on the other side of the isle, doubtlessly hoping to reduce the chances of a sneak attack from behind. He laughed at the thought.

“Thanks for the advice, who knows if I’ll actually follow it,” he called out to her.

She waved her hand without turning back, “Maybe even a Japanese instructor. You’re so rude!” But there was a smile in her tone so he laughed it off. In the span of five minutes, he had felt lighter than he had felt in ten years. He watched her for a moment longer, as if imprinting the moment in memory for safe keeping, then decided to make something happen, for a change.

“Hey!” she slowed to a halt, the basket hitting her calves, “What do you know about shelf lives?” The look on her face spoke volumes. Nevertheless, she did open her mouth to answer, her words, while pertaining to superficial question, her tone sounded like she understood there was more to it.

“Got to make use of the product before it’s unfit for consumption, right? Otherwise it’s pointless to spend that money on it.” Her eyes were unwavering as she said this, and the breath he did not know he was holding, rushed out softly.

“Will I see you here again sometime?” he asked, softer than he was used to, to strangers.

She quirked into a half-smile. “I’m going to tell the cashier that a creep just exposed his plans to stalk me, so they’ll be losing a few customers.” She shook her finger at him, chiding, “Seriously, get that habit fixed—the one where your mouth and brain lose connection so often, that you don’t think before you speak!” and pursing her lips, she wheeled away quickly, backtracking, then turned the corner and disappeared, leaving him fuming.

“Hey!” he screamed uselessly, but his mind was already thinking about something else. The woman, whoever she was, was absolutely right. Who would want to see their money’s worth be wasted on a product that’s past its expiration date? It might have been the answer to all his failed relationships, all those nights he stayed awake, neigh moving, thinking of how he could have done things differently so that his partners did not feel the strain he was ignorant to. And it almost made him feel guilty for being the insensitive bastard he had promised never to become, losing so many friends in the process because he was blind to what was happening around him, failing to really change things; seeing only the rot when it was useless to do anything about it.

Taiga breathed in relief, despite the apparent guilt swarming his head, and totted his grocery basket beside him, heading for the cashier. He had things to do, and his stomach could wait. It might have been ten years, but surely, he could start afresh. All these years and the only thing he had done was nurture others instead of nurturing himself as well. He had mostly forgotten that he too needed to be taken care of, even if he was a man, and so, he had expired faster than he should have, with no value to the cost of his actual worth. It was time to extend his shelf life, even if it meant that he was going to be a different product than before. It would take time, he ventured, before he got it right, but he was anything if not determined to see this through.

He just wished now, swinging his lesser than usual purchases in a plastic bag, that he could thank that unusual woman without fearing a ban to the closest 24/7 grocer in his neighbourhood. That would suck.

 

Notes:

In the series, Kagami is known for having lose control over his _'keigo'_ (honorific language) and his ' _teinei-go_ ' (speaking in polite language). It makes sense for strangers who are comfortable with speaking their mind (usually a rarity in Japan, but friends tell me there’s a generation drift now, so I optimised. :D)

Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!! :)


	2. The Girl Helps In Repackaging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsuya can see the blaring ‘Best Before’ date stamped across his face whether he liked to or not and discretely wonders if his friend could see it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My portrayal of the characters this time around was...left much to be desired of, so please forgive me. If possible, do give me some pointers and I'll be glad to accommodate!

Tetsuya jerked his head up when the table vibrated just as the server brought their orders out, glancing at his phone for a brief second to verify that it was not his device, then proceeded to ignore it. His attention, however, was caught by the glance Kagami threw at his own, the culprit causing a flutter of eyelids before, judiciously, flipped the phone open to read what was probably a message. His reaction to it though, was to place his supersized burger back on the plate, dust his hands and pick up the phone. Instead of texting back, he called the number.

That was the first sign that this was different.

"I don't remember if I've finished the eggs. You could get one pack just in case." Kagami seemed to wait for a reply, but as the person kept talking, his left eyebrow twitched. "Get off my back," he growled, cutting the call while the other person was laughing. On dropping the phone back onto the table corner, the redhead resumed eating.

 Tetsuya would have ignored the interaction if it had not happened again in the next five minutes. "Why do you want to buy quinoa? It gets stuck to my teeth. Oh, and get some of that green stalks you like so much; I've got some cheese dips from the guys we could try."

"Green stalks, Kagami-kun?" He asked finally, when the conversation ended, thinking Kagami was becoming worse than he possibly could in his Japanese that he was forgetting the names of food items.

Kagami frowned as he looked up, not annoyed at the question Tetsuya realised when the other answered with, "Celery."

Tetsuya has known Kagami for eleven years now, and of all the food he ingested like a vacuum cleaner, celery was one of the few greens he avoided like the plague. He had known for a while that the man was seeing someone again after taking a long eight month break from the dating scene, but as of five months, he had yet to see the new partner. It also said a lot, though, when this time around, Kagami did not introduce the person to him. There were four people who always knew what was happening in his life and Tetsuya was one of them. Not knowing this aspect brought about an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Kagami-kun's lover?" He decided to forego being polite since bluntness worked best between them.

 A dark blush crept up his neck as Kagami choked on his meal. "What?! No!" He snapped.

Tetsuya raised his eyebrows. The hothead was reacting amusingly. Shifting discreetly, Tetsuya got himself comfortable in his seat, easily holding his smile in check, figuring which route to take. “Such a nice colour you are turning, Kagami-kun. I’m jealous.”

Kagami scowled. “Shut up, you bastard. Why are you bothering me anyway?” he snapped into his burger, polishing it off, reaching for the last one already. Undeterred, Tetsuya ploughed on.

“Well, there seems to be someone changing your eating habits.” Shrewdly he added, “Maybe they can change your slobbering too,” wiping away the spittle that had flown across the table at the spluttering Kagami was doing. “Putting that aside, what are they like?”

“Like nothing,” and he sounded as if he was going to end the conversation there.

Tetsuya’s face fell, if one could even see the difference. He did not know why Kagami was acting all secretive on this new person, a far cry from how he usually acted with his previous partners. Once, it might have been lover seven, that Kagami had brought along to their weekly meals and said, “This is Miyuki,” and that was that. The girl had looked miffed at the lacklustre introduction but she had hardly lasted a few more months; Tetsuya had gotten a text during Kagami’s basketball qualifiers saying they broke it off. There had been another time when Kagami introduced someone named Brody on a Skype chat—Tetsuya grimaces at the memory—that resulted in the relationship’s untimely demise.

So sitting there and wondering why Kagami did not proffer the same with his new relationship muddled him.

“I’m not dating anyone, so there’s nothing to say,” Kagami ended up confessing just a second after the thought crossed his mind. Instantly relieved, Tetsuya brought the usual vanilla drink to his lips, humming. “And this one, this girl,” he jerked his thumb at the phone, “Is just a friend. She’s too young for me to see her that way.” And that was how the conversation ended.

 

***

 

Daiki had watched the last few of Taiga's seasons and had been nervously fidgeting in his seat or sitting on the edge, almost waiting to see the man descend from his magnificent lane ups on his back and never get up again. At the end of the current season though, he was a thousand times lighter when Taiga moved seamlessly without any extra moves in his play, and it made him realise: "Aa, I miss that Bakagami."

The minute he touched down in Japan and tolerated his mother’s spiel of ‘You were the best, my baby, now come let me put some muscle onto your pathetic skeleton you call being fit’, he called up Tetsu, made pleasantries and demanded Taiga’s information. Tetsu being Tetsu, remained tight-lipped. “Come on, Tetsu,” he pleased, stealing one of the tempura shrimps his mother laid to rest on a platter she was taking to the kitchen. In return, she smacked her cooking chopsticks on his fingers (where did the ‘my baby’ woman go, he sometimes wondered), but he grinned at her nevertheless.

“You hurt him a lot the last time you had that number,” Tetsu reminded him.

Daiki paused. It was true, there was no denying it. Every time he saw red, he thought about Taiga’s eyes enraged at what he had said when they were calling it splits, and the image of defeat imprinted on his mind to never disappear. It was just saving grace that Taiga had never acted upon their premature ending in the next few tournaments, still giving it his very best and even defeating him in some of them. What he had fallen in love with (and probably still was, to boot) was Taiga’s impassioned basketball plays. There was never a time he felt, “Oh, that was just some lame playing” when it came to the other, still going out of his way to get the games Taiga participated in recorded so that he could see for himself how majestically the man lead the court.

“I-” Daiki did not know what to say to Tetsu to make the older man believe he was truly sorry about his past offence. “I just…miss him, Tetsu.”

Tetsu remained silent for a few more seconds before he sighed and asked, “If I give it to you, what will you say to Kagami-kun?”

What would he say, even Daiki did not know. For the past four months, all he had on his mind was ‘I have to get his number’.  There had been no other thought besides that, and now thinking about it, not one thing stood out. Honestly, there were just so many things he wanted to tell Taiga, but he guessed… “Maybe I would start with an apology,” he shared, and as if it was the magical word, Tetsu cut the call. “Eh?” he glanced at his phone, an awkward moment filling the space, but then, as he was going to redial the man’s number, he received a message. ‘From Tetsu’ it read. Daiki frowned, opening it to see a phone contact, though the name Kagami Taiga stood out sharply in his phone’s font.

Laughing, Daiki saved the contact, synced his phone on the wi-fi to his cloud, and breathed in slowly through his nose, letting the air rest a while in his chest, before breathing it out just as slowly, if not more. Calming his beating heart, he pressed ‘Call’. A few rings later, the call connected.

“Yes?” came the assured voice that he recalls from all the interviews he had seen in America, some in Australia, and even the few in Japan.

“Yo,” he greeted, a soft smile tugging his lips.

 

***

 

Ryouta was in pain.

There was no other description he could give after sitting for the second flight in a row, this one being over eleven hours, delayed even, because the Captain refused to listen to the Traffic Controller and they got delegated a taxi lane far from where they had been parked, and it so happened to be the most busiest one of the morning. Sitting in silence—Ryouta had the misfortune of being complained about when he first started out, to the point where his usual cheerfulness was deemed a hazard to the pilot and thus had a pay dock for that shift—he observed his duty to the T, before almost rushing out to be free of the old man’s glare.

Sidled by the flirty cabin attendants, all Ryouta wanted to do was go home, have a shower and sleep on his stomach because he does not think his ass could handle any more pressure without flattening for life. He knows people who would commit _seppuku_ if that happened. Smiling tiredly, he gazed about the bustling Narita Airport, not really paying attention to the gaggle that was occurring below his vision, towering over the attendants easily like he has been doing since high school.

Just as he was about to slip away unobserved, another towering person caught his attention, only because of the red hair that briefly came into view before a baseball cap covered it up immediately, head ducking to remain under the radar. Not that it worked since the man was 6’ 6’’, a mean scowl on his lips, lugging around his carryon with hardly a thought. Something in his chest hurt as he watched the man make his way solitary to the arrivals’ exit, but not fully moving out yet. Spurred on by this fact, Ryouta decided to ditch the annoying and tiresome colleagues, steadfastly and near sprinting to reach the other man’s side.

“Ta-” he stopped short, unawares that he had already caught the man’s attention when he was running with a slight flail to his arms, but in his own mind he was fretting over what name he should refer the other with, completely missing when a variation of his own name was called out.

“Ryō,” and then a brilliant smile—a smile Ryouta had loved seeing on the redhead’s face time and again, and made him want to kiss those lips for being able to show such a beautiful sight and spawn such an emotion in him—directed at him made the choked breath ease out, and that phantom chest pain disappear. “Flying out today?”

“E- N-no,” he fumbled. Ryouta was a little flabbergasted. When they had ended their relationship, Taiga had been so standoffish, to which he guessed was him being beyond hurt that Ryouta could even think of doing that to them after four years of dating. Those red-brown eyes had closed off to him and were like shuttered windows, his face muscles slack through the whole process of Ryouta moving out of their shared apartment, and finally out of his life, friend-circle included. It had become painful to see in those short days after, and he had hoped to never cross paths again if that expression was what was waiting for him; he could do without beating himself up for destroying that happy countenance.

But Ryouta could not do it, spend years with Taiga and feel the way he felt, loved and happy despite knowing that somewhere deep inside Taiga was comparing him to Daiki. At times, during their dating period, he had wondered why Taiga tolerated him—often enough he saw Taiga cringe when Ryouta did particularly garish things, or going back to modelling for his _last gig, I swear_ or being surrounded by a multitude of people he did not know, or giving his number to people to which Taiga got furious over. He had done so many things that should have resulted Taiga dying from an aneurism, but the other man just stayed silent and by his side, through thick and thin.

“I just got off,” he responded, almost like an afterthought. “Getting back from the States?”

Taiga nodded, the baseball cap shadowing his eyes. “Yea, a little later than expected, because of real estate issues.”

On hearing that, Ryouta froze, again. “Real est- Are you going to move to the US permanently?” the thought never crossed his mind, only because while he had not wanted to confront Taiga, he had not expected to really never see him again. Sometimes, when he was feeling down and strung out, he would surf the channels, hoping to catch a game with the redhead in it, usually finding Daiki, though, so he would make sure that he knew which state Taiga was playing in on flights he flew to America so that he could see a live game. He had been surprised, all those years ago, while catching up with Yukio-sempai, that Taiga had been drafted (and already playing!) in a minor league over in America. Stunned and in a confused jilted moment, he had drunk himself into a stupor and ended up doing stupid things that he would rather not think about.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” he had wailed throughout the night, sobbing and chugging down sake like a fool. “We were together for four years!”

Clearing his head, he fixed Taiga with a glare. Standing now in front of him, Ryouta wanted to know. Wanted to know why the other had not tendered him such an important opportunity, only to find out months later through other people. Anger getting to him, unreasonably no doubt, he blurted out, “Why didn’t you tell me about the minor league offer?”

Taiga jerked his head up, enough that Ryouta could see widened surprised eyes. It took less than a moment to return to normal, narrowing even, before the smile started to slip off his face. Ryouta wanted to smack himself. “I never had the opportunity to.”

Ryouta frowned. “What do you mean? Four months after we broke up you were already in your third game. You must have received an offer while we were still dating,” he was sour, he knew, especially when they were already old news, and it has been around four years since they had parted ways. But… “Did…did you not trust me?”

Taiga snapped, stepping forward, “I did. I was going to show you the letter when you decided to break things off. Forgive me for not being happy enough to share.” There it was those blazing eyes of his. Ryouta saw his own subdued reflection in them. “I came home to tell you about it, heck, I wanted to make plans to buy a house with you over in America. But you…” he shook his head, quietening down, “You didn’t even want me.” His lips trembled.

“I,” he decided to be upfront; “I hated it.” Taiga looked up at that. “Hated being compared to Aomine.” The drop in his favoured ‘-cchi’ was telling. “Day after day, I’d see you look at me, look right through me, and it would hurt to pretend that I didn’t see that you didn’t love _me_ but how close I could act like _him_.” Taiga’s face was hollowing out, but true to his nature, he let Ryouta continue talking. “No matter what I did to show you I loved you and I wanted to be with you, it was just…too tiring. I- I wanted you to love me for being me, and not someone else.”

Waiting to see if he had anything else to add, Taiga took in a breath. “I’m sorry.” Ryouta snapped his neck straight to look incredulously at him, mouth unhinged, wondering if that simple apology is what Taiga thought he wanted. “I’m sorry you thought that way, felt that way.” They both frowned now. “I might have been doing that unintentionally, but Ryō, I always saw you for who you were. In fact,” here he huffed out a short laugh, cheeks twitching as his lips stretched into a small smile, “I thought you just liked acting. Remember I used to complain you should get into Drama school instead of aviation?”

Ryouta remembered. It used to be the first thing Taiga fell back on when they fought after drinking parties in University. He used to hate those fights because it felt like Taiga was biting into him for not being able to perfectly copy Daiki’s personality. It was also one of the reasons he had given up playing professional basketball.

“Daiki and I dated for such a short time, I don’t even know how he acts when at home, you know?” he started to speak again, and Ryouta looked on. “I don’t know if he curls up into a ball with the covers over his head, or if he insists on there being Ramune in the fridge at least on the weekends to drink after his baths, or ice pops all year round to the point where there was _only_ ice pops to eat in the kitchen. I don’t know if he could wait for me when I forgot about dates three hours after we were supposed to me, because usually I was waiting for him. I know for sure he would never enter frilly cafés and the like, a place you loved going into to eat parfaits and cake, and things you should not have eaten as a famous model. I don’t know if he’s ever been in a magazine before, but I know all the ones you’ve been in, featured or otherwise, and I think I still have a subscription going on for Zunon Boy.” Taiga was grinning sheepishly, rubbing his nape in embarrassment. “I meticulously checked the _unagi_ before making you eat it, and found ways that you would not barf over the thought of consuming it. I perfected onion gratin soup not because of him. I went out for parties not because of him. Watched serials and dramas and movies of the romantic nature that I honestly do not understand how you could stomach, not because of him. I hand-washed your designer clothes not because of that idiot. But because it was you.” Taiga looked stern as he repeated, “I did it because I loved you, not him.”

“Taiga…”

“If I didn’t, hell no would I have kissed you after ingesting that soup,” he grimaced, and suddenly feeling light headed, Ryouta joined in, even if there were a few suspicious drops oozing out of his closed eyes.

 

***

 

On glancing up from his book out the window where he sat waiting for Kagami to arrive, Tetsuya sees a young woman probably in her late teens walking alongside Kagami, and understood why Kagami’s hesitating to do anything.

Because honestly, she was a _girl_ compared to the hulking man that Kagami is, and safe to say, Kagami was anything if not a proper decent male, and even considering making a move on such a young girl was probably forcing him to his wits end. But there he was, smiling and laughing (no wait, that was him scowling at whatever she was poking fun at him for), meant that Kagami was still cherishing her for what she was worth. From where Tetsuya sat, it seemed she was worth a hell of a lot more than Kagami’s failing relationship streak.

At the entrance of the café, the two parted ways, the girl waving with an enthusiastic farewell to which made Kagami scowl again. The words ‘I’ll get you for that’ was heard since he pushed open the door, walking in simultaneously. Kagami nodded at the waitress at the front, easily making his way to the table Tetsuya waited for his arrival. “She’s cute,” he started with, making Kagami blush brighter than he could give him credit for, “I can at least commend you on your taste, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami scowled, taking a seat and crossing his arms. “That Ahomine said she was fat with much left to dream about in the chest area.”

Tetsuya blinked at the admission. “Aomine-kun saw her?”

“Aa, when we were leaving the street courts the other day and she had come to pick me up.”

“Oh, so she walked home with you?” He was trying to corner Kagami, but the big oaf dug his own grave when he corrected: “Nah, I lend her my car when I’m not around, so she picked me up as thanks. Does my groceries, too, sometimes.” Not even realising what he was getting into, Kagami continued listing off, “She cleans the place here and there when I’m in season, and before I come back, she makes sure my kitchen is stocked and the facilities work. She’s pretty useful for those things.”

And Tetsuya blinked again. “And you are sure you are not dating her?”

“Hm?” Kagami was already scrutinising the menu. “I told you that the last time already. You know I’ll let you in when I do find somebody,” he seemed to have depressed himself, so Tetsuya tried to steer the conversation back into the previous one, since unknowingly, Kagami was happier chatting about how ‘useful’ the young woman was.

“So you two spend a lot of time together when you are here? She still cleans for you and such?”

“No, I’m capable of my own cleaning, thank you very much,” Kagami had his eyebrows twitching at the interrogation, but did not stop talking, yet again. “We do movie nights, or she drops around when I’m doing roadwork to help time me. Most of the time though, she’s a cheeky little brat.”

Tetsuya wondered when Kagami would actively stop thinking of her as a ‘cheeky little brat’ and as a ‘woman I love’. Tetsuya can see the blaring _‘Best Before’_ date stamped across his face whether he liked to or not and discretely wonders if his friend could see it too. He hopes the day is soon because the warmth in the other man’s eyes as he speaks of this girl is something he has missed seeing his friend capable of. As their waiter arrived to take the foreboding huge order, Tetsuya relaxed for a bit. It might take more time than he would like, but maybe this time around, Kagami would brave the storm and take his ship by the wheel, manoeuvring uncharted waters with a calm and fierce heart. Tetsuya would wait to hear from his friend; eyes alight with a flame so intense, that he would rather burn in its gaze than feel shuttered out in a cold storm.

 

***

 

“Kagami-san,” she called out, garnering said man’s attention. “That real estate agent called again while you were out, and I told him you’ll call your father to inform him about the market price. He’s really vigorous, huh? Guess the minute he realised who you were, he’s been coaxing you to be a client. Oh, and I picked up the mail.” She glanced at the magazine in her hand. “I didn’t know you were interested in Zunon Boy.” She laughed when Taiga rushed to snatch it out of her hands, and glared at her.

“It’s not what you think,” he supplied. Staring down at the front of some strapping young male, he said, “I once dated a model that used to be Zunon’s favourite cover model. Heck, they should have just renamed their magazine after him.”

“Oh?” She sounded interested, and turning to her, saw wide brown eyes of said emotion. She loved hearing his stories, making him feel more and more like a parent telling their child of past miscreant behaviour. Stuffing down that feeling, he decided to continue with the conversation.

“Yea, Kise Ryouta,” he watched her to see if she would draw back in shock, over him dating a male, but all he saw was those honest eyes widening.

“Kise Ryouta? Even I know who he is!” She beamed. “Urgh, when I was in elementary, my sister was crying over the fact that he was giving up being a model to fully embrace his new direction in life being a pilot, or something like that.” She shook her head, sighing. “Then there was a period where she took on two jobs to save up money so that she could one day sit in a plane that he was flying.”

Taiga laughed, an unknown weight settling in his stomach at the thought of ‘elementary’.

“But that’s awesome, Kagami-san. I almost feel like bragging to people about this,” she was pattering around the house now, putting his collected mail on the dining table (which she had forced him to buy), retrieved the spray bottle to water the plants (which she made him organise in a proper corner and not leave abandoned in front of his balcony window), then pulled the opened up throw from the sofa to fold and place against the headrest. “An NBA player, then I find out he dated a once-famous model-cum-pilot.” She cheekily grinned over her shoulder at him, resting her forearms on the headrest. “What next?”

Taking a chance, he said, “You know that Japanese NBA player you were cawing at the other time?”

“Aoi something-something,” she hazard. He chuckled, correcting her, “Aomine Daiki. He was my first boyfriend in high school.”

“You dated him in high school?! Did you two study together?” the amazement was clearly evident in the full attention she was giving him.

“Nah, we were rivals from different schools.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“So you were cohorts with the enemy, huh?”

“It didn’t last long, couple of months,” he did not know why, but her shoulders stopped shaking in mirth, bright eyes staring straight at him without blinking. “He and that model, Ryō, I mean Kise, were middle school teammates.”

She remained silent.

Taiga struggled to continue the conversation, deciding to tell her about the first female he went out with, instead. “I dated the daughter of that Ryugin’s place’s owner for a while. Learnt some pretty nifty stuff from that old man they call chef.”

Her mouth hung open. “You- You’re talking about Nihonryori Ryugin*?”

He frowned in consideration, “Is there another Ryugin around?”

“Not-not,” she was looking confused and stammering, not often he got to see her like that, so he grinned, covering his mouth with his palm, watching her, “Not that I know of.” Suddenly, seeing his face, she scowled. “You’re lying to me,” she waggled her finger at him.

“No I’m not,” he walked across to the bookcase he had in the corner of the living room, closer to the window so that he could make use of the light, he pulled out a photo album. Flipping through the pages delicately, he stopped at one spread where there were a few Polaroid pictures attached. “See here?” She came forward, suspicious, tucking herself close enough to his right arm as she glanced over it to see the book. She gasped.

Pulling at his arm so that she could get closer to the book, she made noises of awe and surprise, flipping through the pages after asking if it was alright. “Kagami-san is an interesting person, like I thought.” He glanced down at her crown, almost two and a half heads shorter than him. She looked up at him. “It feels like you have lived a long life, Kagami-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Why…do you say that?”

“Well, isn’t it true?” she asked, closing the book and hugging it to her chest, “Even the first time I met you, you looked so bone-weary.” He blinked at that. “What, it’s true. That’s why I didn’t report you for stalking me,” she stuck out her tongue at him. “Even if you’ve met so many different people and I can only imagine what you must have gone through with them, you’re here, right, standing beside little ol’ me, and telling me your war stories.”

“War stories?” he exclaimed.

But her face was soft and wondering as she asked, “Isn’t it like that?” Taiga kept her gaze. “Aren’t you a victim of PTSD?” She grinned impishly to take the bite out of the words, but he understood what she was saying.

“Yes, yes, counsellor,” he retorted mockingly, “I’m battle weary and I demand a full session’s worth of healing. Now go make me some tea.” She scowled playfully, replacing the photo album carefully as if she was handling his heart, and turned to face him again.

“I’ll be there when you really are ready, Kagami-san. Maybe with tea for now, but wait a couple of years and we can have drinks together, talking about your war stories.” He chuckled, grateful even though a bit pained. She ducked her head, twiddling her thumbs, possibly wondering if she overstepped her boundaries, so he decided to assuage her fears, patting her on the head. A soft bubbling giggle erupted from a small mouth, cheeks red and eyes clenched tight.

Taiga ruffled the short bangs as the young woman laughed and laughed and laughed. As she quietened down, he tugged her to his side with the same arm, and muttering a heartfelt ‘Thank you’, he kissed her temple. Petite arms wrapped around his torso and he felt small hands fist into his shirt. “Really,” he muttered again, squeezing her closer than he himself thought possible, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nihonryori Ryugin - This really classy restaurant in Minato, Tokyo that I've been to (thanks to my mother's work) when I was in my early teens. It was stiff, and a time when I did not know how to hold a pair of chopsticks, but was one of the more up-scale places I do remember. ;_;
> 
>  
> 
> I was focusing less on ‘the girl in Kagami’s life now’ and more on how ‘the girl in Kagami’s life now’ is changing things for the better, the reason there’s no name allotted to her. Hope this lived up to expectation. Flew in a different direction than I thought it would go…
> 
> Do let me know of your thoughts on this! Much appreciated :)


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